


i don't want to think about you right now

by fineh



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Post-Break Up, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-05-02 04:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14536644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fineh/pseuds/fineh
Summary: “This doesn’t change anything.” Jane’s voice is sharp, to the point, effectively cutting off any plea Petra might have thought about making. This is a body on Petra’s floor. A human person JR shot, for her. Because of her. But it doesn’t change the fact Petra lied, or that JR broke up with her. Or that she’s all alone.In which Petra needs to rebuild.





	1. i almost died last night

**Author's Note:**

> That finale huh?
> 
> the titles are all pulled from split lip by the love-inns

“Call the police.” JR’s phone materializes out of nowhere. Petra stares, the command clear but not processing. Maybe it’s the ringing in her ears that prevents her from fully understanding what Jane is saying.

“What?” Petra’s heart hasn’t returned to normal yet. It’s still lodged in her throat pounding frantically, reminding her that she just cheated death-- again.

“Call the police,” JR repeats, pushing the phone at her again. With trembling hands, Petra takes it.

“Aren’t we…” Petra struggles to find the right words. People don’t come back for Petra unless she’s the second choice, to blackmail her or kill her or in Milos’ case, both. Licking her lips, she tries again. “Shouldn’t we…”

“This doesn’t change anything.” Jane’s voice is sharp, to the point, effectively cutting off any plea Petra might have thought about making. _This_ is a body on Petra’s floor. A human person JR shot, for her. Because of her. But it doesn’t change the fact Petra lied, or that JR broke up with her. Or that she’s all alone.

Petra tries to get closer, to see if Jane is telling the truth. JR always said she could tell if Petra was telling the truth just by looking in her eyes. It’s not the same for Petra. JR has always been just as good, if not an even better liar than Petra. She shows the world the parts she wants to show. Right now, JR is hiding behind a curtain of hair and hurt.

Jane backs away, careful not to touch or move anything because that’s who she is. Jane doesn’t move bones while her fresh out of prison ex obliviously calls the police. That’s who Petra is. "I’m going to check on the girls. They shouldn’t see this.”

Petra hasn’t had the chance to think of them. Not since the source of her nightmares reappeared. Everything happened so fast. One moment she was on her way to kiss the girls good night. The next there was a gun in her face. Milos standing in front of her wearing the cruelest grin. Teeth bared in a smile that was anything but comforting.

“Okay.” Petra finally manages to whisper but Jane is already gone. Leaving her standing in her living room holding Jane’s phone and trying not to stare down at the pool of blood that is going to take forever to scrub out. At least this time she can pay someone else to do it. She won’t be pregnant on her hands and knees scrubbing away her mother’s sins. And hers, because she should have called the police the moment she saw her mother standing over Ivan.

Petra types JR’s code. 2-4-3-2. _Aida._

Jane’s mother. The only person JR has.

Choking down a sob Petra makes the call, answers all the questions dispatch throws at her with an ease that unnerves even her. This shouldn’t be her umpteenth time calling the police to report a murder. Not that it’s a murder, it’s self-defense.

Jane reappears right as the police knock on the door. They’re immediately separated. JR in one corner. Petra in the other. The night passes in a blur of questions. By the time it’s all over the most Petra can do is ask if she’s allowed to call someone.

Rafael doesn’t answer, neither does Jane. Petra grips her phone harder when she gets Jane’s cheery, peppy message promising to call her back _as soon as she gets the chance_. There’s no one left to call. The only other person is in this room doing everything in her power not to make eye contact.

Locking her phone Petra decides to leave it at that. A voicemail will only freak them out and a text is too impersonal. Besides, it means she can put off the berating a little while longer because Jane and Rafael aren’t going to be happy to find out she lied.

* * *

 

It’s four in the morning by the time everything is said and done. Petra is exhausted. Her head has bypassed throbbing and gone straight to pounding.

“Can I move my girls?”

The detective sizes her up like she has some grand ulterior motive other than wanting to spare her girls an early introduction to a crime scene. Whatever he’s looking for he must not find it because he nods.

“That’s probably the best idea. This area will be off-limits for at least another week.”

That isn’t news to Petra. She’s familiar with how this goes. Either way, the detectives haven’t been very forthcoming with details. For now, neither of them is going to jail. Petra gets to stay here, and JR gets to go--Petra doesn’t know where Jane is going after this. 

As she navigates her way through her suite Petra tries not to think about the bills that will soon be piling up on JR. Bills she won’t be able to pay because of her. Because she lied, then guilted her. Because Jane is the type of person to give up her career for someone she loves.

Petra can’t even tell the truth.

Pushing everything out of her mind Petra focuses on getting her girls out without waking them up. The girls are small enough she can carry them individually. Petra might treat them like mini adults but at the end of the day, they’re still kids. Her kids. There’s no way in hell they’re going to see the gruesome scene in the living room. Those things have a way of sticking to you and never letting go.

Neither of them stirs when Petra walks softly into their room. She’s thankful they’ve always been heavy sleepers. Something they inherited from Rafael. Rafael slept like he had too much to drink. Deep and uncomfortable. Petra, well, she’s always been restless. _Not always_ , a little voice whispers. Petra ignores it and picks Anna up, blanket and all. Anna immediately curls into her, stuffed animal in one hand, her other hand clutching the front of Petra’s dress. Petra stands there, breathing her in, clean pure innocence yet to be touched by the cruel world. Petra carries her carefully to Rafael’s old suite--previously Luisa’s--holding her breath when they trek by Milos’ uncovered body. Relieved when they enter the suite. Petra hasn’t been able to rent it out yet. Hasn’t wanted to.

She hates how sentimental she’s gotten.

The girls' room is still set up. Luísa didn’t move much. Just smashed things that have long been cleaned up. The guilt begins to resurface, she shouldn’t have left Luisa there another week. At the time it seemed like the only choice to fully get rid of Magda and Anezka. Now, she is beginning to accept Magda is a constant fixture in her life. Hovering on the outside, waiting for a moment, any opportunity to ruin whatever is currently making her daughter happy.

Setting Anna down, Petra tucks her in, smoothing her hair gently. Still in awe that she has two tiny human beings that depend on her as much as she depends on them. Two daughters she almost let down today. She’d given up. Given up and stood there wondering why Milos didn’t hurry up and pull the damn trigger.

Stumbling into the hallway Petra does her best to control herself. The last time she hyperventilated she’d had someone to comfort her. Now, she's all alone. The only remaining defense between her daughters and the world. Straightening her back Petra takes a deep breath. Then promptly finds herself gasping for air again.

JR stands in the hotel hallway, Ellie cocooned in her arms. Rocking side to side humming something soothing to her sleeping daughter. Petra must make a sound because JR looks up. For the first time this night, there are no barriers between them. Jane’s hazel eyes are tormented. A look Petra recognizes too well. It’s one that’s been reflected at her more times than she can count. The night she impaled Roman, or when her mother slept soundly in her room and all Petra could see was Ivan’s ghost, taunting her. Daring her to confess. More recently Anezka. Her sister’s scream replaying in her mind, followed by her threat. A threat she later discovered was real. Enough for Petra to feel a minuscule better about accidentally killing a sister she never got to know outside of schemes and manipulations. But not that much. That look in Jane’s eyes is more than Petra can take.

“I didn’t want her to see.” Jane’s fingers tighten around Ellie, holding her closer.

Their first instinct will always be to protect. It’s something they both share. Petra turns her back on Jane, on her own inability to protect her. Petra’s words are directed at the floor, unable to look at JR.

“Thank you.” There are many things Petra wants to thank her for. She settles for all of them. For saving her, for caring about her daughters, for loving her, even if it was just for a moment. Placing one unsteady foot in front of the other Petra leads her down the hallway to the girls’ room. Jane places Ellie down, gently removing a tuft of hair from Ellie’s slight fist. Petra busies herself with setting up nightlights and finding stuffed animals. Pretense is hard to give up.

Jane is gone by the time Petra is done kissing her girls. It takes everything in her not to run down to her suite and check if JR is still there or if she’s gone for good. She doesn’t. Petra is above forcing someone to be with her. She wasn’t before, desperation leading her to an artificial insemination that still makes her cringe every time she thinks about it. A hypothetical child her last-ditch effort to tie Rafael to her. She can’t do that to JR. She won’t do that to JR.

Petra lingers a little longer with the girls, just in case. She doesn’t want them to wake up disoriented and afraid in a place that’s different from where they fell asleep. Petra stares at them. Her beautiful girls. The girls she’ll do anything to protect. Clicking on their nightlight, Petra leaves the door open before heading to the master bedroom.

It’s been months since the suite was vacated but Petra has given explicit instructions for the rooms to remain clean. Just in case. It was never clear what she was waiting for, but it made her feel better knowing she had options. Fumbling with the light switch, Petra’s eyes adjust to the bright lights. There are some touches of Luisa, a line of lotions where there didn’t use to be anything but everything else is the same. Petra runs a finger across the bed. The cool grey sheets a reminder of her past life. The one with Rafael. He was comfortable, familiar. That familiarity part of why she hadn’t been able to let go and allowed herself to be tugged back one more time. Tugged back into a world of self-doubt and paranoia Petra knew she had to remove herself from. Before they ended up destroying each other again.

Rafael is with Jane now. Something Petra can’t bring herself to pay much attention to aside from an eye roll at brunch. He’s happy. While Petra waited for the proverbial shoe to drop, Rafael either didn’t have one or was choosing to ignore it. Knowing Rafael as well as she does, he’s probably ignoring it.

Turning the lights back off Petra steps out of the room. It feels wrong to stay here, a step backward. She’ll sleep in one of the guest rooms instead.

The police pay her no mind when she returns. Petra does her best to remain indifferent when she sees Jane sitting on the couch. Her lawyer facade is back firmly in place. Back straight, legs crossed, hands clasped firmly together. It’s all there except for the stare. It isn’t inquisitive and calculating, her eyes are carefully blank, they slide past Petra like she’s no more than a piece of art hanging on the wall. Petra can handle anything, fleeing countries, dealing with blackmailers turned hostages, staring down guns, being kidnapped, paralyzed, almost killed, and a host of other things she’s done her best to block out. It isn’t until tonight she’s discovered the one thing she can’t.

Petra double checks with the detective about going into her room and the girl's room. He gives her permission and Petra is happy to escape JR's blank gaze. Pulling out a giant suitcase she grabs outfits for herself. Solid colors she tells herself, then she won’t look that much of a mess. Blue, black, white, pink. Her florals and shorts will have to wait for now. She piles it all into the giant suitcase, doing her best not to think of the last time she packed.

At the time, she’d thought it the lowest moment of her life. Preparing to leave behind two kids who no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t be the mother they needed. The one who sang to them, rocked them when they were crying, the one who could anticipate their needs. A mother like Jane. Or Alba or Xiomara or the million and one other mothers who would never abandon their kids. Petra laughs, somewhere between bitter and scornful, if only that Petra could see her now. A success, yet still a fuck up, hiding out in her room from the one woman who had truly loved her. At least that Petra wouldn’t have known what she was missing. This one, she would regret it for the rest of her life.

Resisting the overwhelming urge to scream Petra moves onto the girls’ room. She has to be more discerning with their clothes. They’ve become fashion experts recently and moving them out of their suite is going to mess with their routine. So is the rather sudden disappearance of JR who after a brief moment of hesitation, has become a fixture in their life. Petra can see tantrums in her future. Tantrums no number of sparkly turtles will be able to stop.

She’s rolling the suitcases to the door when the lead detective finally closes his stupid little notebook.

“Mrs. Solano.”

“It’s Ms. Solano.”

“Right,” his dismissive manner makes Petra itch to smack him. (If it was Dennis, Petra would have had Jane punch him.) Taking a deep breath Petra forces herself to calm down. She’s always tended to get mad when she’s tired and right now tired doesn’t even begin to describe how she feels.

“Here is a copy of the statement you gave us. As of now, we have no more questions for you or your…” The cop pauses and Petra raises a brow, silently daring him to say something rude or obscene. Petra doesn’t tolerate things like that. Not even before. Too focused on Luisa’s failed sobriety Rafael never noticed the cruel things people whispered about his sister. Only got angry when Petra refused to tell him why she had fired Jason, or Josh, or Miranda, or any of the other staff who leered or stuck up their nose whenever Luisa walked in with Alison. Now, after coming to terms with a side of herself she knew existed but never actually acted on, there was no telling what she would do.

After an eternity he finally settles on, “Ms. Ramos.”

Petra snatches the paper he holds out to her, “Is that all?”

“No. One of my officers will remain stationed outside this suite. If you want, I can place another officer outside the suite you moved into.”

Petra declines his offer. Cops make her uneasy and would also be hard to explain to the girls. Radical honesty only applies to things like the tooth fairy or the Easter bunny.

The detective nods and motions everyone out of the room. Once everyone is gone Petra finally lets herself exhale. Pressing her forehead against the door, she’s thankful to still be standing. She might be exhausted, but she’s alive. Something rustles behind her and Petra wonders if she’s unlucky enough to have two people try and kill her in the same night. Turning slowly, she sees it’s JR. Unfolding her lean frame from Petra’s couch. She stands tall, tired but tall.

“JR--” It’s not the best time but she has to try.

“You should call Krishna.” Jane won’t make eye contact. “Bail her out. She’s the reason you’re still alive.”

While Petra struggles to wrap her mind around an assistant she hasn’t given a second thought to, Jane slings her bag over her shoulder. For the second time that night, she walks resolutely past Petra and out of a suite that will never feel like home again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, Jane V makes her appearance.
> 
> find me here on [tumblr](http://finehs.tumblr.com)


	2. the world changed colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Petra tries to recover and Jane V sets her back on track.

Petra’s phone chimes softly, the small tone enough to pull her from the PR report she’s been going over. It continues ringing, a reminder she set for herself, Petra swipes it away. As tempting as it is to snooze it and continue working through the stack of papers on her desk, she doesn’t. Pushing away from the desk, Petra stretches her back twinging despite the fancy chairs Rafael bought for all the offices. She walks to her window.

The sun is still high in the sky for 6 in the evening. It’s not spring, but it’s not quite summer either. It’s been a rare day where the temperature didn’t rise above eighty, cool by Miami standards. The weather has been messing with her. Instead of matching her mood it’s been the opposite. Pleasant, perfect weather to stroll along the boardwalk or down the beach or sit with a significant other outside a cafe.

The weather hasn’t distracted or softened Petra’s week from hell. A week only made manageable by Krishna. Krishna who is back with a huge raise, a promise of moving up the Marbella chain of command. No matter their differences, there was always grudging respect between them. The blackmail is a non-issue, and well, Krishna hating Petra wasn’t exactly news. Rafael was the one with the soft touch, not Petra.   

Petra made the executive decision to ignore everything not related to work. It wasn’t hard to avoid Jane and Rafael. It was her week with the girls, Rafael got them starting Saturday. As much as she hates it, she had the nannies drop them off and pick them up at school while figuring everything out. Petra tried to keep her subdued mood away from the girls, but they instantly picked up on the fact something was bothering her. As well as JR’s notable absence which Petra has done her best to explain away, but she can tell they don’t believe her. Just like when they didn’t believe her explanation for Rafael continuously missing brunch. So instead of tantrums she’s gotten two little girls who hug her for no other reason other than they know something is wrong. It’s hard for Petra not to break into tears every time it happens.

As soon as the news broke Petra got texts of varying levels of concern from Jane’s family. The wind gusts through the open window, ruffling her hair harshly before fluttering around her gently as it continues its course. Petra imagines it as Jane’s way of correcting her. _Your family_ , Jane’s voice chides softly. Petra might call them all a family, but sometimes, she can’t help but slip into her old patterns. Especially when she feels she doesn’t deserve them. Like now.

Rogelio sent her a series of emoji’s Petra has yet to decipher. (A thumbs up had been her best attempt at a response.) Xo asked if she was okay. Alba hadn’t texted, but she cornered Petra in the lobby, something her granddaughter has yet to succeed at. Aside from a returned call Petra hasn’t spoken to Rafael. She kept it surface level knowing Rafael would relay any information back to Jane. Petra still hasn’t answered Jane’s phone calls. Because of that, she’s been getting texts once a day. Texts because Petra hasn’t listened to the fifty voicemails currently in her inbox. Petra can’t answer. Jane has this uncanny ability to sense something is wrong and Petra’s not feeling up to acting. Not while trying to rebalance the Marbella.

Petra’s workload hasn’t let up one bit despite struggling to gain new bookings. The Marbella is a murder scene once again, so she doesn’t have any time to think about the woman who walked out of her life five days ago.

It’s what she likes to pretend.

The reality is every decision she’s made has been carefully weighed. Petra is entertaining the press against the advice of the PR team, and her own instincts in hopes it’ll be enough for them to leave JR alone. The last thing JR needs right now is the press snooping around her. All it takes one nosy reporter to discover JR’s problems with the DA or cause unneeded attention on Aida. So, she’s letting the press snoop around, tanking her kids hotel because it’s the least Petra can do for her.

She might have pushed one Jane out of the way, but the other has remained firmly lodged in the forefront of her mind the entire week. Through all the meetings, questioning, walk throughs, and interviews. Petra doesn’t know what JR is doing but her sleepless nights have given her plenty of time to dream up a million scenarios. JR is probably, visiting her mother, going out. Hating Petra. Slamming the window closed, Petra turns her back on the people down below.

Thankful tomorrow is Saturday Petra powers down her computer. Stacking everything neatly she places the sheaf of papers on top of the closed laptop. Her role on Saturdays is minimal. The staff knows better than to contact her on weekends. Only if it’s absolutely necessary. Picking up the PR report, she thumbs through it one final time. The PR team says they’re no longer in the news cycle and if nothing new or sinister is discovered, the only thing left is Sunday’s newspaper.

Sighing, Petra sets it back down. If only that was all of it. Two deaths, both linked with her, has the board talking about possibly bringing in someone else to run the day to the day of the hotel. The thought of some nameless faceless person running her hotel is enough to make Petra want to punch someone. Closing her door behind her, she says a quiet good night to Krishna.

Doing her best to ignore Rafael’s empty office Petra makes her way to the elevator. Out of everything that has happened, Petra is the only one who is still standing. Gripping her briefcase tighter, she punches the button to the twelfth floor. She can’t fault the board for their decision.

But she can fight them.

* * *

 

“Petra!”

Jane finally succeeded in getting her alone. Petra’s surprised it took her this long. Then again, not really. Jane has always been polite about things. Asking instead of demanding. Petra long since learned polite doesn’t work as well as Jane thinks it does. Not that Jane will admit it.

Petra drags herself out of the guest room before Jane comes in and does it for her, enjoying every second of it. Not that she was sleeping anyways, just wallowing. Another day with no word from JR. Given JR’s relentlessness when they first met, it was no accident.

Jane stands by the kitchen island. Hands on hips, tapping her foot indignantly. This Jane is a sharp contrast from the college student who sat on her couch, waiting for Petra to chastise her for breaking into her room.

“Good morning Jane.” Petra greets her first, hoping to stave off some of the theatrics that are sure to ensue. Her greeting doesn’t appease Jane one bit if her stiff nod is anything to go by. “How did you get in?” Petra asks, curious, and happy for the distraction Jane provides.

“I stole a master key.” Jane holds up the card and Petra can’t help but be proud of her. It must show on her face because the corner of Jane’s mouth twitches. Jane rolls her eyes, but Petra can tell it’s more for show than anything else. “I had to steal a master key, to talk to one of my best friends, on a Saturday. A Saturday.”

Petra still hasn’t had her morning coffee. Hasn’t managed to do anything other than pull herself out of bed, run a comb halfheartedly through her hair, and prep the girls to go to Rafael’s. A relatively painless handoff. Rafael hadn’t seemed any more inclined to talk than she did.

It takes a moment for it to click why today is so important. Brunch.

Shit.

“I’m sorry Jane. I forgot.” She really did. Brunch ranked relatively low on the list of things Petra needed to handle. And Rafael hadn’t said anything, it wasn’t odd. He floated in and out as his scheduled allowed. But rain or shine. Fight or no fight. Jane and Petra always got together. “There’s been a lot going on here.”

“There’s a lot going on everywhere Petra! You can’t just shut people out. Not when they need you. Especially not when you need them.”

“I called.” Petra bristles, like she always does when someone mentions her needing something. Needing is beneath Petra Solano.

“Once. And I’m sorry I didn’t answer but I called you back as soon as I got the chance. But you ignored everyone. All I know is what’s been on the news.” Scoffing, Jane produces a newspaper and rattles it in front of her. “Imagine that. I have to find out through the news that someone attempted to kill my best friend and her girlfriend SHOT someone to protect her. And it all happened the same night my dead husband showed up entirely not dead. I’ve been going crazy this week trying to talk to you. I needed to talk to you.”

It must be the lack of sleep because Petra swears somewhere in that jumbled mess of words and accusations Jane said Michael was alive. “I’m sorry. You’re going to have to repeat that last part for me.”

“Michael’s back.” Jane crumbles in on herself, all her anger gone. “He’s alive.”

Petra doesn’t know the protocol for this. She barely knows the protocol for normal situations, let alone this. What is she supposed to say? ‘I’m sorry your dead husband is back right when you were starting to be happy again?’ Or, ‘I’m sorry you were forced to spend four years of brunches with me for no reason?’ Or how about, ‘I’m happy your husband is back, and you get the happy ending you always talked about? The one you gave yourself in your book.’

So, she opens her arms, Jane dives into them, eyes full of tears, some shed some unshed. Hugging her as tight as she can, Petra holds onto Jane. Hoping to be some kind of anchor in a world that has no doubt recently become unsteady.

“Come on let’s sit down.”

Petra leads Jane to the couch, pulling her onto her lap. Jane curls into her without hesitation, laying her head on Petra’s shoulder. Jane cries softly while Petra strokes her hair, ordering herself not to cry. One thing Petra’s learned is when Jane cries, it’s hard not to cry too. But this isn’t about her. Petra can’t count how many times Jane put Petra first during those first few months Rafael was gone. Petra was essentially useless. The nannies did their job and weren’t any more inclined to teach Petra than she was willing to admit she needed help.

It was hard. Trying to juggle two girls who still preferred her twin sister over her and losing her business partner as well. Not to mention Scott and Anezka. But Jane was there for Petra even through her own grief. Guiding her and making the transition less daunting. Patient with Petra, it made sense why the younger woman had wanted to be a teacher. She was always offering tips, accepting when Petra wanted to do things differently or completely putting her foot down.

Of course, they snapped at each other. It was inevitable with them. It was also safe. Jane could snap at Petra and not her mother or grandmother. Sure, some Saturdays ended on a sour note but without fail, Petra or Jane would send that text on Friday night confirming their next brunch. Jane’s family was skeptical at first, but Xiomara quickly caught onto the fact that she could use Petra to maneuver Jane out of the house on those bad days when Jane could barely get up to brush her teeth.

Now, they were almost back to where they started. Jane mourning the death of another relationship. And the center of an inevitable love triangle. Who knows how this one is going to end. Petra has her suspicions, but she’s not going to say anything. Not until she knows how Jane feels.

Petra has some idea of the guilt Jane is going to feel when she makes her decision. She never felt any real guilt for over leaving Lachlan for Rafael. With Roman, however, the guilt consumed her. She’d loved Rafael. Petra tried to deal with her husband fighting for his life as best as she could while Magda gleefully whispered if he died she would inherit everything.

Petra hadn’t wanted everything. She’d wanted her husband. Until her husband hadn’t wanted her anymore.

Petra doesn’t know how long she holds Jane. It’s not until her stomach growls that she’s reminded she hasn’t eaten anything today.

“Did your stomach just growl?” Jane’s voice is hoarse but amused.

“No.” The day Petra isn’t defensive is the day everything in Petra’s life starts going right. Jane raises a brow in that annoying way that always makes her tell the truth. No matter how good or bad it might be. Petra prefers JR’s head tilt. “Yes.” Sitting up, Jane untangles herself from around Petra.

“Do you want me to make you a grilled cheese?”

Petra’s mouth instantly waters. As much as she tries to avoid certain foods, she can’t resist Jane’s grilled cheese.

“Would you?” Petra asks, doing her best not to look hopeful.

“Of course, Petra.” Jane laughs softly, her eyes bloodshot but twinkling nonetheless, standing, she drops a kiss on Petra’s forehead. The first touch of comfort directed at Petra this week, aside from her daughters or Krishna's awkward attempt at a thank you when Petra bailed her out. Involuntarily, her eyes closed, savoring the small gesture. Jane was right, she needed her friend.

Shaking off the moment, Petra leaves Jane to rummage around the kitchen. Whatever it is that happened or didn’t happen with Rafael and Michael. Jane still isn’t ready to talk about it. Petra is hungry and willing to let Jane distract herself with food and mindless chatter. She’s halfway to the girls’ room when she remembers Rafael has them. Now Petra is the one without anything to distract herself with.

Heading back to the kitchen she takes a seat at the kitchen island, she’d always found it tacky but refrained from telling Rafael when he’d shown her it. Face alight with joy over his own personal bar. Of course, Emilio had no qualms telling Rafael exactly what he thought about it. Picking up the newspaper Jane brought with her, Petra idly wonders if Jane actually gets the newspaper. Or if she bought it for the sole purpose of waving it dramatically in Petra’s face. It was probably both.

_MURDER AT THE MARBELLA_

If Petra had a dollar for every time that headline was printed…

She skims the newspaper, scoffing at the exaggerated details, stops herself from growling at some of the lies that have been printed. Stares, at the little black words. Fluctuating between happiness and sadness when she reads, _Jane Ramos, Ms. Solano’s girlfriend._

“Ex-girlfriend,” Petra whispers to herself.

“What?”

Petra startles. Jane sets down two perfectly made grilled cheese sandwiches Petra has never been able to replicate.

“Jane--JR. She’s my ex-girlfriend. We broke up before the break-in.” The ‘we’ implies it was mutual and Petra didn’t mess everything up.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Petra takes a huge bite of her sandwich. Screw being dainty, she’s hungry. Jane waits but Petra refuses to volunteer any information and for once Jane doesn’t ask for more details. Petra frowns at her, something is seriously wrong because this is usually the part where Jane bombards her with questions. Jane is one of the only people who isn’t afraid to ask Petra things.

“Guess we both had a bad night.” Is all Jane says, toying with her sandwich absentmindedly. Breaking off small pieces, she turns, holding out a piece for Mateo, who isn’t there. Petra snorts a little and Jane makes a face back at her. It strikes her then how different they are. Jane’s instinct is to feed her son. Petra’s is to protect her daughters through whatever means necessary.

“Bad night is an understatement.” Petra gets up before Jane can sense her change in mood, she’s not too sure Jane would notice today. Opening the refrigerator, she mulls over what to drink. “Water or orange juice?”

“Mimosas.”

Petra stares at Jane. Jane who isn’t much of a drinker aside from the occasional glass of wine or celebratory champagne. Jane is more of a milkshake person. Unless her friend Lina is in town.

“It’s been a long week Petra.” Petra continues to stare at her. “Besides,” Jane folds her hands primly. “It’s too early for hard alcohol.”

There she is. 

* * *

 

It takes them two mimosas each for Jane to begin talking. (Petra might have made them stronger than usual.) Jane explains everything. How Michael was kidnapped by Rose. (Petra blames that on him, he never got over the whole Sin Rostro thing.) How he was kept drugged, outside of the country. Then released, with no sudden warning. Rafael picked him up outside of a hotel. No phone. No sense of time. Just Michael standing alone, shell-shocked and confused.

“I don’t know what to do. I can’t go through this push and pull again. It was so exhausting the last time.” Jane rubs at her temples. The memory of the fucked-up triangle they all played, Petra included, is enough to make Petra’s head throb. Jane had been docile on her side. But the Michael/Rafael/Jane triangle was exhausting to an outsider, let alone to Jane. The center of it. “At least last time my family didn’t like Rafael. I mean, they don’t get along as well as they did with Michael, but it hasn’t bothered me as much as it would have before. But they still care.”

Petra sits back and lets Jane talk. There’s no doubt in her mind this has been bothering Jane all week, and aside from Petra, who could Jane really talk to. Rogelio? The man who named his child after Michael?

“They keep reminding me to think about Michael and Rafael’s feelings. To be considerate. BUT WHAT ABOUT MY FEELINGS?” Jane slams her glass down on the coffee table. It splashes. Jane moves to clean it up, but Petra stops her. Who cares about a carpet stain? It’s not like Petra is going to be in this suite much longer. “What about how I feel? I mourned Michael. I buried him. Now he’s back and I feel guilty. Guilty for not knowing he was still alive. My husband was kidnapped, and I didn’t even know. I couldn’t believe it was him. Standing there, in Rafael’s apartment. I wanted to hug him, kiss him, do everything I swore to God I would do if he ever gave me another chance. But Rafael was there watching. And I felt guilty all over again.”

Petra doesn’t know what to say. She’s never had two people vying for her affections. Not two people she ever took seriously.

“He almost didn’t tell me, Rafael. I don’t think he was going to tell me. Not at first. I get why, but I hate it. He almost made the decision for me, just because he’s still insecure about possibly being the second choice.”

Petra grimaces. She knows all about being the second choice. But she got over it. It took her longer than she would have liked, but she did. Rafael never did.

“Now, I have to make a choice. Again.”

“Jane,” Petra says tugging on her hand to get her attention. “I think you already did.”

“What?”

“Look, the way I see it I’m the most unbiased person when it comes to this. I have no interest in Michael or Rafael. I also didn’t know Michael very well. I also don’t know much of what happens between you and Rafael.” Before, she would know about every disagreement, every shift in the air and try to use it to her advantage. But now she just sees them as a unit. All Petra knows about them, after one very annoying announcement, is they’re together. “That being said,” Petra words her next sentence carefully. “You’ve already chosen. You’re not torn about who to choose. You’re turn about who you’ve chosen.”

Petra waits to see who’s name she says next. Leaving out Rafael’s and Michael’s name is purposeful. Jane needs to decide this herself.

“I pulled out my wedding ring. Tried it on.” Jane’s voice is hushed, on the verge of being ashamed. “I didn’t want to take it off.” Petra doesn’t know if she’s referring to the first time or the second time. So, she squeezes her hand in understanding, remembering the brunch when Jane showed up without her ring. Petra didn’t say anything, just noticed the way Jane’s other hand unconsciously moved to her ring finger while they talked, twisting something that was no longer there. Petra’s familiar with that feeling.

Jane drops her head into her hands. “I don’t want to break Rafael’s heart again.”

“I know.” Petra’s heart aches for Rafael. This is either going to destroy him or fortify him. There’s no in between.

“How am I going to tell Mateo?”

Last time, the kids were all babies. Unaware of everything going on around them. If Petra and Jane didn’t get along it was no big deal. If Rafael went to prison, or Michael suddenly disappeared, the kids couldn’t pick up on it. Unlike now. All three of them were in tune with their parents and their emotions. Jane and Mateo especially. The girls lost their father, but Mateo lost both Rafael and Jane for a while too. Thankfully, it hadn’t impacted him negatively, but they couldn’t say it hadn’t affected him at all. Mateo was well aware of who Michael was to Jane.

“I don’t think it’ll be too hard. You’ve done a very good job of letting him know who Michael was--is.” It hadn’t been just Jane either, Rogelio, Xiomara, and Alba always talked about him. The one thing Michael had never been was forgotten. It was only until recently there were eggshells around his name. Because of Rafael. “Mateo already knows more about Michael than I ever did.”

“That’s changing this time.”’ Jane informs her. “You’re both going to spend more time together and like it.”

Jane’s approach is to throw people together. Petra’s isn’t. She’d been letting JR take her time with Jane because although she would never say it to Jane’s face, she took after her father in dramatics. But they were good dramatics, dramatics that Petra once craved desperately. Part of the reason it hurt whenever they had a falling out.

“It’s not that I didn’t like him. There never really was a reason to spend time together unless we were blackmailing each other.” Michael gave as good as he got back then. He’d been just as desperate and devious as Petra. Petra doesn’t know if he mellowed or buried it in a way neither she or Rafael have ever been capable of.

“Well, now you both have me. So, get ready.”

There’s no doubt Michael is going to need Jane. And therapy, lots of therapy. Michael was not going to walk out of this and be able to jump right into a relationship with Jane. There was no way.

When Jane truly smiles for the first time that day Petra doesn’t have the heart to bring it up. Instead, she allows herself to smile back at this small victory. She’s still not used to making a positive difference.

“Your turn now.” Jane prods Petra playfully before turning serious. It's possible Jane wasn’t as spaced out as Petra originally thought. “What happened with you and JR? Rafael told me JR said she loved you. And there was a rumor you two moved in together?”

The small victory is replaced with a huge loss. Studying the stained carpet, Petra chews her lip, weighing whether to tell Jane the truth. She knows where Jane stands on accomplice to murder. She’s not sure where on Jane’s moral compass manslaughter falls.

“If I tell you, you’re going to hate me.” The _again_ remains unsaid.

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes, you will.” Petra curls in on herself, unable to stop it. “I hate myself.” She’s spent the last couple of months hating herself. First for killing Anezka, then for leaving Luisa in the hospital, but mostly for lying to JR. Every moment they spent together tainted because Petra was pretending to be something she wasn’t.

Innocent.

“How about this? I reserve the right to be mad at you, but you also reserve the right to tell me to sit down and shut up.” It’s ridiculous to come up with terms of agreement but it works for them. She and Jane are similar in that regard. Petra prefers mental lists, her brain always moving from one task to the next. Jane prefers to flaunt hers, to let the whole world what she’s tackling next. “And I will never, ever, hate you. I never did.”

Petra levels her with a look.

“Okay,” Jane lifts her hands, “maybe a little, but that was when you tried to take Mateo from me. And after I found out your mother pushed my grandmother down the stairs. But I swear, other than that. I’ve never hated you. Promise.”

Petra almost laughs at the absurdity of it all. Decisions she’s made. Miscalculations, as she once put it.

“Okay.” Petra sits up, steeling herself. “I killed my sister.” Jane’s face immediately pinches but to her credit, she doesn’t say anything. Petra gives her the watered-down version of the struggle. It’s all confusing and still hard to wrap her head around. So many things had to go wrong in the lead up to Petra pushing Anezka. Maybe if she’d had Rafael in her corner, or if Anezka had chosen anything other than the girls, if the railing hadn’t been unscrewed. If they had been a couple of floors lower, if Anezka hadn’t been susceptible to Magda’s plots. If Petra had just walked away from the Marbella like Rafael did. “They were planning on killing me that night. So, it was self-defense. But at the same time, it wasn’t.” There were so many factors to consider but they all added up to one thing. Petra killed her sister, then lied about it.

“I lied to JR. To the police. To you and Rafael.  To everyone.”

“Well,” Jane jokes uneasily, “you do like to lie. Is that all?”

“No. I guilted JR when my mom resurfaced. I could have come clean, but I didn’t. We fought, I kicked her out.” Petra keeps the part about JR giving up her career to herself. Jane and Rafael don’t know much about the early days of their relationship or JR’s evidence tampering. “There isn’t much after that. She found out the night of Alba’s party, and we fought again. She broke up with me. Then everything with the blackmailer happened--it wasn’t Krishna by the way--I thought I was going to die. Then I thought JR was going to die and somehow that was worse.” That brief moment when she couldn't tell who was holding the gun and then the sound of the gun going off. Then waiting, waiting to see who it was that had been shot. Petra will never forget it. 

“Is that it? Not that dying isn’t bad,” Jane backtracks, “but I don’t think that’s it.”

“She said I manipulated her. When I didn’t Jane, I swear I didn’t. I would never. I mean, I would, manipulate someone, just not JR.” Petra clarifies. She has boundaries, erratically drawn boundaries but they’re there. “I would never manipulate JR.” It’s the one thing Petra can’t get over. JR thinking it was all some long con to keep herself out of jail. It wasn’t. Petra’s love for JR stemmed from a different place. It wasn’t dependent on a purpose JR could potentially serve.

Up until now, Petra has been studiously avoiding eye contact with Jane. “Go ahead, judge me. I already hate myself.”

“I’m not going to do that Petra. You were going through a lot.” Jane laughs humorlessly, “You’ve always been going through a lot. I’m not thrilled you lied but I get it.” Petra squints at her suspiciously, Jane’s forgiveness came a little too easily. “I know you look at things in shades of gray, and it’s not a bad thing. But you can’t apply that to everything. It’s time you start looking at things in black and white.” Petra can’t stop her scoff; her life has always been anything but black and white.

“Not all the time,” Jane concedes. “But sometimes. At least when it comes to the people you love. You can’t lie to them. Not about something that big.”

“It’s hard to stop.” Petra whispers. “It’s hard to know when I’m actually safe.”

“Petra…” Jane’s voice is soft, broken, and reassuring, and accompanied by a tight hug. It’s what finally makes Petra break.  She can’t. She can’t push through and pretend everything is okay. All the emotions she’s kept pent up finally break free of the loose grip she’s trying to hold them in. Petra cries until she can’t cry anymore. Jane holds her, stroking her hair, offers her silent support. Silent because she knows Petra hates false reassurances, both giving them and receiving them.

When her sobs subside, Jane pulls her up, cups Petra’s face in her hands. Embarrassed at her meltdown, Petra struggles to meet her eye, but Jane waits her out.  

“You’re safe, Petra. I promise,” Jane whispers when Petra finally does. Petra believes her, nods to shows she understands. But being safe doesn’t negate JR’s absence. It only makes it worse because JR is the only reason she’s safe. The only reason she’s here with Jane instead of some box six feet under.

“She moved out.” Coordinated everything through Krishna. Petra let her because what else could she do but respect what JR wanted. She meant what she said, she’s not going to interfere, no matter how much she wants to.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m moving out too.” It’s a decision she came to recently. “I can’t stay there anymore. It’s haunted.” Not just by JR, but by the multitude of things that have occurred both in that suite and in the hotel.

“Wow. That’s a big decision.”

“I need to start over. Finding somewhere to live might be the only change I need to make. Or maybe it’s selling the Marbella.” It hurts to even think about but it’s a strong possibility. “But for now, I’m starting there.”

“Do you know where you’re going to look?” The question seems innocent enough, but Petra can hear the million underlying questions Jane is dying to ask.

“I was going to ask your dad for his realtor. His and Xo’s house is wonderful, and in Mateo’s school district.” Petra says nervously, “I don’t want to separate the kids too much. Or make it harder on you and Rafael. Especially now that…” Petra waves her hand in the air unsure of how to say it. It’s hard to wrap her head around the fact Michael is still alive.

Jane crushes Petra into a huge hug, a happy one this time. “You’re wonderful Petra. I hope you know that.”

Petra accepts it, hoping she’ll eventually believe it.

“So, what’s next? Are you going to talk to JR again?”

“I don’t know. I messed up horribly. She told me she never wanted to see me again. I don’t know what to do about that.” Petra watches the balcony curtains flutter in the breeze. “I think I’m going to let her go.” JR was better off without her. She could get a nice normal girlfriend who didn’t come with baggage and drama that followed her no matter where she went.

Jane pinches her. Hard.

“OW!” Petra smacks Jane’s hand away.

“No.” Jane says firmly, “You can’t give up. You have to go after her. Woo her!” Petra isn’t sure her insurance will cover another _woo_. “This is the part where you beg for forgiveness. It’s what they do in telenovelas.”

Petra’s never been good at humbling herself, not unless it’s part of an act. A necessary step to maneuver herself into getting something she wants. She’s done it enough times under false circumstances that she doesn’t even know where to truly start and make amends.

“This isn’t a telenovela Jane. Besides, no one watches those anyways.”

“So that’s why you don’t hang onto every word my dad says about the Passions of Steve? Or why you didn’t spend the rest of our lunch mad once you found out they weren’t going to do the amnesia plot twist?”

“Okay, so maybe I watched one.” The only good thing Ivan ever did was get her hooked on them. Petra chooses to ignore Jane’s knowing smile. “But would that even work with JR?”

“You’ll never know if you never try. You don’t strike me as the person who does well with regret. If she says no, you’ll know. You’ll be able to move on. If she says yes,” Jane smiles dreamily, “well, isn’t that enough to make you want to try?”

“You’re right.”

“I know.” Jane shoulder bumps her and Petra rolls her eyes. “So, I have to go pick up Mateo and maybe have several long conversations I don’t want to have.”

“Good luck,” Petra says sincerely. She doesn’t envy Jane, not even for a minute.

“Good luck to you too.”

They’re both going to need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, Petra tries her best.


	3. i'll almost die a thousand more times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Petra tries to do the right thing.

Jane Villanueva shows up unannounced clutching Tupperware, in a whirl of florals and dramatics. Smacking Petra’s hands away, Jane clears her desk of all her work because Jane decided they needed to talk. And prepare. And strategize. Petra has no choice but to listen. Well, she does have a choice but since Jane’s suggestions aren’t bad, most of the time, it won’t hurt to listen. Begrudgingly, she takes the plate Jane hands her because she is hungry, and Alba’s empanadas are to die for. A small break from the spreadsheets won't change the grim outlook the Marbella is facing. Despite a massive media push, the Marbella is still faring poorly.

“Neutral territory,” Jane tells her now between bites, “No memories.”

“Is that what you did with Rafael?” She asks partly because she wants to know if it actually works and partly because Jane is all too happy to talk about JR but is suspiciously quiet every time Petra broaches the subject of Rafael. Jane takes a huge bite of the pastry in her hand, nodding, but not before her eyes flicker to the left. An obvious tell Jane has yet to get rid of.

“You still haven’t told him?” It’s been a week since their brunch. “Jane!”

""It's complicated!" Jane whines. Petra rolls her eyes, of course, it's complicated, but avoidance isn't a solution. She tells Jane as much.

“Don’t you think I know that? It’s so confusing,” Jane absentmindedly shreds her napkin, “One moment I want to be with Michael but then I get angry at him, at Rose, at myself. Then I’m happy or sad or completely shocked.” Jane's words spill out rushed like she's been holding onto them for some time now.  "How am I supposed to tell Rafael how I feel about Michael when I don't even know how I feel? Where would Michael and I even pick things up?"

Could they pick things back up was the better question in Petra’s opinion. It couldn’t possibly be that easy, to get together after three years, especially if the other person was assumed dead. She and JR had been over for two weeks and she was having trouble imaging where they would pick up. If they would pick up.

"You're deflecting!" Petra shrugs at the accusatory empanada Jane brandishes because of course, she's deflecting.  "We're talking about you right now. What's the plan?"

It’s Petra’s turn to take a huge bite of pastry. The plan? After a week of mulling her plan isn’t feeling very plan like. She’s forcing herself to not use anything she’s learned about JR. It has to be just her, not anything they might have done, a fond memory they created, or guilt. Definitely not guilt. And using JR’s likes and dislikes to her favor when she’s sensitive about manipulation would be stupid and the repetition of a step that has already blown up spectacularly in her face. Grand gestures are also an unneeded pressure on both of them. Not to mention counterproductive and the opposite of what Petra wants.

So, the plan?

"Honesty," Petra says, it's the conclusion she finally came to. "Honesty is the plan."

Jane chews, contemplating Petra’s words before smiling, one cheek bulging with food.

“It suits you.”

* * *

 Petra calls JR two days later and with each subsequent tone, she hopes JR hasn't blocked her number. Crossing her fingers, she paces the floor of Rafael's room. She's never been one for superstition, but today she'll take whatever help she can get. At least there are no tarot cards to make her anxious.

She hasn’t blocked her number.

But she doesn’t pick up either. Listening to the monotone woman asking her to leave a message after the tone, Petra doesn't know if it's a win or a loss.

Taking a deep breath, she stumbles through the message she practiced the last couple of minutes. Struggling to find the perfect balance for the voicemail without risking sounding uninterested. If she over-rehearsed it would sound fake and JR wouldn't show up. But she also didn't want to spend five minutes rambling into Jane's voicemail. She briefly contemplated then just as quickly discarded the idea of texting JR. Petra is a lot of things, some good, some bad, but she is not a coward.

“Hi, JR. It’s Petra--Solano. I know this is two weeks too late, but can we meet up? It's fine if you don't want to. I don't know why you would want to," Petra mutters to herself, "But I need to tell you some things. It's just to talk. I swear. After that, we can go our separate ways or whatever.” Trying not to place so much emphasis on the possibility of whatever, Petra leaves the name of a small cafe.

Neutral territory.

“Are you satisfied with this message?” The monotone voice asks. “If yes, press one.” Heart thumping in her ears, she presses one, then drops the phone in her drawer and locks it. Tries to forget it’s there.

The worst thing she can say is no. Right?

Petra has the rest of the day to worry about it. She pulls the phone out of the drawer not five minutes after putting it there, but it doesn't make a difference. The day ends and there's still no text. Lying in bed, she can't help but stare at the silent phone. It sits on the empty pillow next to her, her companion for another lonely night. She knows JR got her voicemail. Petra’s sat next to her as she rolled her eyes complaining about annoying clients. Before dropping her phone on the coffee table or the nightstand and focusing her attention elsewhere, usually, on Petra.

She can attest Jane paid excellent attention to detail.

Pulling the sheet closer, Petra exhales into the silent room. The voicemail is her first legitimate attempt to win back a significant other. It's not something she knows how to do, not well at least. She either gets naked or inseminates herself, there's almost no middle ground.

This is the only attempt that matters.

* * *

 Rubbing away a small amount of sleep and various nightmares she wakes the next morning to a text.

_Fine. Tomorrow. 1 p.m._

Texting Krishna she has her block off her afternoon tomorrow. With shaking fingers, she opens her conversation with JR. Studiously ignoring the string of texts from _before_ she follows JR’s lead and keeps it short.

_1 pm._

Her next call is to Jane because going after JR was all her idea. She’s still undecided if it was a good one. 

“She said yes. What now?” JR wanted to meet up tomorrow and the radio silence from the past weeks left her more unprepared than she would have liked. She needed help, even if it was from Jane. “What do I wear?”

"Calm down," Jane says to both her and Mateo, who can be heard in the background. Petra doesn't appreciate the amusement in Jane's voice which is definitely directed at her. "Breathe." Breathing solved absolutely nothing. Before Petra can snap at her for telling her to calm down and _breathe_ , Jane continues. “She said yes, that's a good thing. Right?"

"Right." She said ‘fine’ but Petra refuses to dwell on what ‘fine’ could possibly mean. Focusing on tomorrow is a better use of her time.

"Now, wear what you think is right. Full Petra is probably excessive, but you also don't want to show up in a ratty t-shirt and jeans." Or yoga pants, Petra tacks on silently.

"So, what you're saying is I should follow my heart and let my fairy godmother choose my outfit?" Petra asks, pushing through the selection of clothes she brought from her suite. She should have known Jane’s advice would be tinged with idealism. Someone says something in the background, there's a muffled sound before Jane screams a very scandalized, "Ma!"

Dissatisfied with the outfits she has Petra closes the closet door, as Jane scolds Xiomara. “What'd she say?"

Resigned Jane relays her mother’s words. "My mom said to choose something that shows off your...tits. And some other things I won’t repeat." Petra huffs out a laugh, she often wonders if Jane would be as prim and proper as she is right now if she’d been raised by Rogelio and Xiomara. Jane plows on, ignoring Xiomara’s suggestion and Petra’s laughter. "Wear something you're comfortable in, your favorite outfit.” Petra’s amusement wanes as she considers Jane’s words. Comfort isn’t natural to Petra. It’s something she pretends until, after a lot of wrestling and maneuvering, it comes under her control. "I don't care what you say, you have a favorite dress. One you feel great in, wear it."

For once, Jane’s idea isn’t ridiculous. Flopping onto the bed, Petra rubs at her eyes, thankful that despite their differences she has Jane.

"Thank you, Jane"

“You’re welcome, Petra.”

They chat a little more, Xiomara wrestles the phone away from Jane to wish her good luck and give Petra advice that has Jane pointedly reminding Xiomara that Mateo is right _there_ and begging Xiomara to keep it clean. When Jane gets her phone back, she grumpily confirms their plans for brunch before hanging up.

Tossing her phone aside, she stares at the ceiling considering her new dilemma. She does have that dress. There’s just one huge problem.

It’s in her suite.

* * *

 The key card clicks, the sound small, but enough to get Petra’s heart pounding. It’s not too late, she tells herself, she can always buy a new dress. The head detective informed her a few days ago she could move back in if she wanted. An officer would remain on the floor a couple of more days to make sure there were no more threats, but aside from that she was free to go back to her regular life. It would have been great news if the thought of returning to her suite didn’t immediately make her panic. She almost called Jane again. She actually dialed Rafael but ended up playing it off as a call about the girls.

In the end, she pushes forward because it’s just a room, on a floor in a hotel. But mostly because there’s a cop outside and the last thing she needs are whispers about her being traumatized. Or shaken, or anything other than the image of the soulless boss she’s worked years to cultivate.

Stillness has enveloped the suite; the drawn curtains hang lifelessly. Tape and other police things Petra doesn’t bother categorizing litter the dark living room. She walks past the scene as quick as possible. The Scene, because that’s what her suite is now. A crime scene and it wouldn’t matter if it were devoid of all the police equipment. It’s no longer her home.

Not that it was ever really a home. Sure, it was the first place she chose for herself, but it was never about her. Like so many other things in the early part of her life, it was a strategic move. Wanting something that didn't have her mother's touch and moving out of the suite she chose to spite Rafael happened to coincide. Claiming a suite on the same floor as Rafael was the next step in the multi-pronged plan to win Rafael back. Halted abruptly by Rafael finally being honest and Milos’ reappearance.

The suite was one of the many transitions she’d been through. Although it was technically home, she never called it that. Not until recently, when it'd gone from being hers to theirs.

For a moment, it’d been theirs.

Shaking off those thoughts, she heads straight for her closet, ignoring the way her hands sweat while opening blurry doors. Reminds herself, she’s not here to think or get sentimental. Get in, get out.

The half empty closet shoots that idea to hell.

Her clothes were hastily shoved to the side one morning. Not having enough time to organize things properly, she left JR in the closet with a kiss and a promise to do it over the weekend. She never got the chance.

Petra grabs her dress where it hangs, freezing when she spots a black bag. It isn’t hers. Black isn’t a color Petra is familiar with. The only person she knew who favored black was JR. When it came to her job, JR preferred practical and professional. Being unprepared for the sake of fashion wasn’t something Jane was willing to do.

Hanging the dress back up, Petra debates opening the bag. It wasn’t there the other night when Petra carelessly packed up half her closet. No, the bag is recent. A glint of gold catches her eyes. Gold. The color that’s haunted her every time she opened her closet no matter how out of sight she placed the heels. Grabbing the bag, she opens it in one tug. The shoes come tumbling out. The shoes JR had packed away while reminding Petra of the way people saw her, betrayal clear in her voice.

Their reappearance feels final. The closing shot in a long movie. A final reminder that they’re over. She shakes the bag, but there’s nothing else. No note, just shoes. Petra doesn’t know what to make of them. If it weren’t for the text their presence would feel like defeat.

Either way, it's getting harder to fight the suffocating feeling that's been steadily creeping up on her since she entered the suite. It's too much. The suite is a somber reminder of what could have been. An even greater reminder of the fact she gave up. Surrendered to Milos without a word. Living hadn’t seemed vital. After years of fighting, one bullet from the gun of an ex she’d thought long gone almost ripped from her hands what she fought years to protect.

Her life. And her daughters’ life.

It also took one bullet to completely restore it. One bullet from the barrel of a gun wielded with no intention other than to protect. It’s unclear what JR was protecting.

A life, a lover, a nobody?

It’s all so fucking maudlin Petra needs to get out now. Snatching up her dress and another pair of heels, she marches through her suite, leaving the shoes where they lay.

She’ll deal with them and the rest of it when she moves out. She has her eye on a couple of houses and is debating whether she should wait for the weekend to do a walk through with the girls. She needs to get out of Rafael’s suite as fast as possible. The space isn’t hers. It makes her itch.

But buying a house is daunting. She’s never done it, at least not for herself. Jane and Michael’s house was relatively easy. It needed to be modest but also have enough space for a quickly growing Mateo. Petra only walked through two of them, looking at them through Jane's frugal and somewhat picky lens. It wasn't a stretch to revisit that mindset, it never left her. It just lay in the background, pushing her to do whatever it took to not return to that life. For Jane's house, she'd embraced it. Picking apart certain aspects that were too ostentatious, but not completely removing some commodities. In the end, she’d found something she was sure Jane would love and Petra wouldn’t resent her for.

No, shopping for herself, for her girls, was completely different.

“Petra!”

Heart still beating frantically she’s able to swallow down the yelp that almost escaped her, cursing Milos and the resurgence of paranoia she’d just barely managed to tamp down. Schooling her face, she turns, but it’s just Rafael half walking, half jogging to her. Relieved, she pauses a bit, giving him a chance to catch up before resuming her pace. she left the girls watching TV in their room, so she could force herself to hurry.

“Rafael.” He looks horrible. The suit fits his body well, but his face is a whole different story. The hallway lighting isn’t forgiving, the stress from the past few weeks is etched deeply on his face. Still, he manages to give her a tired smile. “So, you’re buying a house and didn’t tell me?”

“Crap.” His career change completely slipped her mind. Distracted, she had Regina handle his exit. She forgot Rafael was no longer downstairs playing bartender. “Sorry.”

“I’m just teasing,” Rafael laughs, throwing an arm around her. “If there’s one thing we never agreed on it was decor.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Shaking her head Petra shrugs him off, patting her pockets for her key card. Waving him in, she heads to the guest room to hang the dress up. Rafael showing up means he’s finally done brooding or pouting or going to the dark place he always favors. She makes a small detour on her way back, checking in on the girls, she gives them a quick kiss and picks up the plate of snacks they finished.

When she returns Rafael is standing just inside the doorway, his hands in his pockets. An indecipherable look on his face. This must be his first time in his old suite since Luisa kicked him out almost a year ago. She’s sure he doesn’t want to be in the suite any more than she does.

“Are you going to come in or are you going to stand there being weird?” Petra asks not unkindly, it’s the best she can offer as a welcome, she might work in hospitality but she’s not very hospitable.

“Yeah, sorry.”

Collapsing onto the couch, she watches Rafael shuffle further into the suite, his hands shoved so deep into his pockets she fears he might end up pantsing himself. He drops heavily onto the couch next to her. “Are you okay?”

“I should be asking you that.” Rafael returns, a wry smile in his tired eyes.

Petra squints at him. “What?”

“You called me.”

“About the girls.”

“Petra,” Rafael begins in that annoying concerned voice of his. “I know you, it’s not what you say. It’s what you don’t say. What’s wrong?”

It’s aggravating this man can tell something is wrong based on a phone call. She had an affair right under his nose, but now, one look, and she crumbles faster than any fleeting chance she’s ever had at happiness.

Petra lets out a long breath. “It was nothing. I’m fine.”

Rafael frowns. “But you weren’t before?”

“Have I ever been anything other than fine?” Petra asks bitterly, “Have you been anything other than just _fine?_ ”

Rafael doesn’t answer because they both know the answers to her questions are an unequivocal no. There’s always something hovering around them, far enough to let them pretend they can truly be happy, but close enough to remind them it isn’t possible. The thing is constantly changing, but it’s enough to come around and screw with whatever peace they’ve managed to find.

“Have you seen Michael?” Trying to be respectful she hasn’t asked Jane much about him, but she can’t deny she’s curious.

Dropping his head back onto the couch Rafael closes his eyes with a sigh. “Hard not to, he’s living with me.”

“What?” Petra almost shouts, looking back to the open door, she makes sure the girls haven’t come running, before lowering her voice. “He’s living with you? Why? Where does he even sleep?” Whenever Jane talked about Michael Petra pictured him at the Villanueva's, or the police station, not Rafael's shoebox apartment.

“It’s not his fault what happened to him.” Sitting back up Rafael shifts uncomfortably, “Rose is…”

"A bitch," Petra says flatly. "But that doesn't explain why you're letting Jane's ex-husband room with you.” Maturity has never been Rafael’s strong suit. “Don’t you hate him?”

“Maybe a little.” Rafael admits, “He was such an asshole for so long, but then we got along, and it was different. It was a shock when he died. At that point, I didn’t really have any strong feelings about him anymore. It was all about how it affected Jane, but I wasn’t around for that either.” Rafael never saw the worst of it. He got out of prison and saw all the pieces Petra, the Villanuevas, Rogelio, and Lina struggled to keep together.  “It was like one second he was this guy I couldn’t get rid of and then he was gone. Recently, I don’t know,” Rafael runs a tired hand through his hair, “it’s been different and not in a good way. I can’t stop comparing myself to this perfect husband Jane once had.”

“He wasn’t perfect.” Contrary to what Jane, and Rogelio, might think.

“Yeah,” Rafael agrees quietly, “but I was the one competing with a dead guy”

“You always did like a competition.”

Rafael’s mouth twists and Petra knows he’s reliving the same memory she is. Cornering her outside the bathroom after her engagement. Trying to gain a trophy to show off to his father and Lachlan. She gets it, she was doing her own hunting. That memory is a reminder of who they used to be. Yes, money still mattered to Petra. It always would, but it was no longer her only focus.

And well, that Rafael was also rarely motivated. Content to skate by on his father’s name while expecting everything to be handed to him. Doing anything to gain the attention of a man who at some point had decided Rafael was a disappointment and never gave him a chance to change his mind.

“I always get so close and then something happens. When I let myself be happy something always happens.” Rafael laughs humorlessly. “Every single fucking time.”

Petra sits back, letting Rafael’s words sink in, watches the light dance across the room. “You ever think that maybe we’re not meant to be happy.” She’s thought about it a lot recently. The lonely nights have given her enough time to ponder the question that still remains unanswered. “Not even content.”

“That--that can’t be true.” Rafael swallows roughly, “It just can’t be.”

“Maybe.” Petra concedes, because even with that thought permanently lodged in the back of her head, she’s always tried. “Maybe we just don’t have the right coping skills for the shit that happens to us.” Rafael predictably tenses next to her, surprised like always when she compares them to each other. As if he, Luisa, and Petra are vastly different and not adults, who survived shitty childhoods that continued into shitty adulthoods. She blames Jane for his sudden sense of superiority. “Come on Rafael.” Clicking her tongue at him, she tracks a ray of light as it bounds across the ceiling. The movement is soothing. “We’re both different levels of messed up. You just choose to ignore it until it comes back to bite you in the ass.” Petra herself favors self-sabotage. The ray bounces around in the silence as Rafael contemplates her words.

“Yeah, you’re right. I can’t cope for shit.” Petra turns to look at him, surprised by his admission. Rafael lacks self-awareness most of the time. He shrugs at her, the rise and fall of his shoulder communicating far more than any combination of words could have.

“Don’t ruin it for yourself this time. Cope.” She tells him firmly, he can’t spiral this time. She doesn’t have the energy for it. But more importantly, she doesn’t want to watch him implode. “Stop letting everything hinge on Jane.” Every single happiness in recent memory has always had to do with Jane. "Are you really going to go backward and become a single-minded idiot? Again?"

“No, I’m not.” Petra doesn’t bother hiding her skepticism. Rafael leans forward, “I’m not,” he promises earnestly. She studies his face intently, the only thing she can read in his tired features is honesty. And she wants to believe him because to not believe means he’s not capable of growth and she knows he is. Nodding, she goes back to the lights.

“For your sake, for Jane’s sake, I hope that’s true.” She’s determined to stay out of this triangle and she will as long as Rafael doesn’t start acting like a complete ass again. If he does decide to act like an ass she’ll play defense and she can’t promise it won’t be dirty. Jane at the very least deserves that. 

"It is," Rafael says, leaning his head on top of hers, Petra shifts closer, fitting easily against him. "You asked why Michael is staying with me? It's because of that. I'm trying." Petra's head falls and rises with every steadying breath Rafael takes. “Whatever happens, I don’t want it to be because I was a petty insecure asshole.”

Petra hums in agreement because there isn’t much to say. This triangle thing is completely their business.

“Does Mateo know yet?”

“No, we’ve held off on telling him. He comes over when Michael is down at the station and I’ve been taking him out more.”

"It goes without saying, but you can bring him here if you need to." The girls have a slight calming effect on him and in turn, Mateo's excitable energy prevents them from being too serious. Petra is often amazed by how well they balance each other out. Rafael nods and Petra sees herself reflected in him. Bone tired of the situation, but determined to make it work.

“We went to the aquarium on Saturday.”

“I know.” She found out where they went after the girls came back bouncing off the walls, covered in glowing sea stickers. “You bought them too many ice creams.”

“You gave them ice cream for breakfast the other day.” Rafael teases lightly.

“I thought it was yogurt.” Half asleep, she hadn’t noticed she opened the freezer and pulled out the tub of ice cream. Nor did she register exactly why she needed more strength to serve the soft food. The girls were becoming dangerously smart, only telling her after they’d cleared their bowls of the unexpected treat. “I already sent their teacher a free spa day to apologize.”

“I know, you’re good like that. And it’s okay Petra. You’re not perfect. You’re human.” She burrows into him, ignoring the glaring differences between him and JR. Hard where JR is soft, broad where JR is lean. It’s comfortable, but not the comfort she needs. “And I’m here if you ever want to talk.”

“Thank you. But once with Jane was plenty.” She’s not ready to put herself through that story again.

“Okay.” Rafael agrees amenably.

They stay like that a while, talking about nothing and everything. The hotel, Rafael’s job, the girls. Petra’s grateful for the company and she knows no matter whatever Rafael says, he’s not jumping to play house with Michael. She doesn’t realize the afternoon morphing into the evening until her phone rings and it’s an investor she can’t ignore.

“I have to…” She points at her phone, reluctant to answer but needing to nonetheless.

“Of course.” Rafael waves her away before ambling to the playroom, comfortable now in this space.

When she’s done she finds him sitting crisscross on the floor with the girls watching penguins, lemurs, and explosions, their attention rapt on the screen. They laugh together, burying further into their Dad. Rafael holds them tightly, dropping a kiss on each of their heads.

Smiling, she steps further into the room.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?”

Rafael pretends to think about it, just to get a rise out of the girls. Shaking her head, Petra leaves them to it, calling the kitchens and adding another serving, knowing for a fact he’s going to say yes.

Standing alone in the living room, she hopes that level of certainty can spill into her meeting with JR tomorrow.

* * *

 It doesn’t.

The uncertainty follows her the rest of the evening and into the next day. Now, she stands outside the cafe, sweating from nervousness and not the ninety-degree weather. Distracted, she tugs awkwardly on the dress she ventured into her suite for. It was a good move in theory, but the nightmares came back tenfold. A jumble of dreams that made it impossible to sleep, not soundly at least. 

Stepping into the cafe, Petra relaxes marginally, allowing the crispness of the AC to wash over her for a moment as her eyes adjust to the change in light. It’s a little after one so the lunch rush is over, leaving the cafe with stragglers and other people who are here for a quiet late lunch. Or in Petra's case, to apologize to her ex-girlfriend. Slowly, she scans the room for the lithe lawyer. If Jane said she was going to be here, she would be. Petra was the one who was always running late with hotel meetings that dragged on too long. Or picking kids up from karate, or French lessons, or the variety of things she made sure her girls did.

Her eyes focus on a small corner where JR sits, staring out the window. The sight of her is enough to make Petra’s heart clench and unclench, her relief that she showed only lasting a beat. Sucking in a shaky breath, she weaves her way through the room, ignoring the greeting from the girl behind the counter.

“Hello, JR.” Petra greets softly but not timidly. Her pride makes sure of that.

“Petra.” Jane startles, so engrossed in her thoughts, she didn’t hear Petra approach. Settling in, Petra places her purse on the table, feeling the weight of the silence as she pulls out her chair. The waiter is prompt, granting them a small reprieve from the initial tension that’s already begun to weave its way around them. Petra asks for water, she can’t eat anyway, not with the knot that’s permanently settled in her stomach.

“How’s Aida?” Petra asks quietly. It’s safer than outright asking JR how she’s doing. She also has a fondness for the woman, the glimpses she’s seen of Jane’s mom are enough for her to see exactly how it is the passionate woman in front of her came to be. 

“She’s had a couple of good days. She hasn’t forgotten me.” _Yet._ Petra fills in mentally and hating herself for it. JR doesn't share her same thoughts. Instead, she smiles softly at the memory. Her smile makes the hotel's current financial problems worth it. "How are your girls?"

“They’re doing well. Confused.” Petra struggles to keep the desolation out of her voice. It’s been hard to keep them balanced with JR’s disappearance and Michael’s reappearance. “But they’re doing well.”

"I'm glad," Jane says sincerely.

“Me too.” The waiter comes back with Petra’s water and to refill Jane’s coffee and the brief lull is enough for some of Petra’s uneasiness to settle back in.

"Thank you for coming," Petra says once he leaves. The words are stiff even to her own ears, but she doesn't know how else to say it. JR doesn't respond, instead, she tilts her head. Scrutinizing her. Petra stares unabashedly back, taking advantage of the first opportunity in weeks. JR looks effortlessly composed, that hasn’t changed at all. Her hair is as lush as ever, her clothes as fashionable as always. Mouth quirked upward in perpetual amusement. Only in the soberest of moments can JR be found straight-faced, eyes betraying nothing, skeptical to the max. Thankfully, this isn’t one of those moments.

“It sounded important.” JR eventually says, cradling her cup of coffee. The only other drink Jane loves more than scotch. Petra stares at the mug, remembering the way Jane laughed when Petra teased her about her addiction. Standing across from her in the kitchen, Jane swearing up and down her mother bottle fed her coffee instead of formula. Petra still hasn’t been able to figure out if she’s joking or not.

“Thank you.” Petra blurts, “For everything. You saved my life and it would be wrong of me if I didn’t thank you for that.”  She needs to verbalize this, it’s not one of those things that can hang unsaid between them. To her, it’s important JR knows exactly how grateful and indebted Petra is to her now.

“It was nothing,” JR waves off, but the way her hand shakes prevents Petra from pressing any further. Her eyes are already burning and if she digs any deeper she won’t be able to get through the things she needs to.

Taking in a shuddering breath, Petra begins. “I know the way things ended wasn’t ideal. It was unconventional and chaotic, and you deserve an explanation.” Watching the droplets slide down the glass, she gathers her thoughts. Of all the explanations swirling around, it's hard to decide the order of importance. "I'm sorry. For everything. No matter what happened between us, my intention was never to drag you down with me.

“All I wanted was to stay out of jail.” The memory is a distant one, the urgency isn’t. “That was the goal. Stay out of jail. I didn’t know it would be that hard, or that I would meet you.” Petra smiles bitterly, “You were unexpected.” Forced into her life by circumstance at a time when Petra hadn’t wanted anything other than a good lawyer to keep her out of jail.

“I won’t make excuses for what I did. It was wrong. But,” Petra clarifies, “I don’t regret the decisions I made. I can’t. I did what I had to do to protect my family. My girls.” She might not be a conventional mother, but at the very least she could protect her girls. And if JR doesn’t understand, Petra swallows harshly, then they’re better off without each other. “I reacted, poorly. I shoved Anezka and then she—she fell. I felt horrible about it. I still do.” Petra reaches for her water with shaky hands, the ice cubes clink loudly, but JR doesn’t say anything, and Petra is grateful for that. “I also felt some relief,” she isn’t afraid to admit it, “I already suffered once because of her, my girls already suffered once because of her.” Her eyes burn, remembering the months of separation. Lying on the bed, immobile, powerless. Forced to watch her children bond with someone else. “It’s been years of her doing whatever she could to hurt me, however she could.”

“Petra,” JR’s been listening intently, her face cycling through various emotions while Petra talked, finally settling on indignation. She reaches out, squeezing a hand Petra hadn’t even realized was trembling. It’s warm, it’s always warm. “You killed your abuser, one of your abusers,” JR amends with a frown. “You’re a victim of abuse. I knew that before we even met. But,” JR lets go of her hand, “that’s not why I broke up with you.”

“I know.” Lying to her was bad, guilting her, that was so much worse. Taking a deep breath Petra continues, “She died and since I never reported all the things Anezka did to me because I was stupidly protecting the hotel, I was screwed.” The literal unscrewing of the balcony didn’t help either. “You being blackmailed to put me in jail also didn’t help.” JR sits up straighter, lips in a thin line, but Petra doesn’t have anything else to say about the sabotage. She’s over it. “So, you see why I had to lie to you at the beginning. To everyone, even though I knew I shouldn’t have.” There are so many things Petra knows she should do, but her life doesn’t allow for it. Not if she wants to survive. “I had no options.”

“But then you did.” Jane is looking at her for the first time since Petra sat down, for the first time since the dim hallway. When she stood across from her feeling a pain that was so acute, her distressed face never left Petra's memory. As her hazel eyes burned into hers, it's hard for Petra to remember exactly why she couldn't come to this woman for help.

“Yeah, then I did.” Petra looks down, unable to hold her gaze, "You became an option. A scary option but an option nonetheless. I should have told you. I know that now and I knew it then too. But it was hard." She forces herself to look up from her glass of water, she came here to apologize to JR, not the table. “I was scared at how you would react or maybe I didn’t want to test how you would react. When you found out it was easier to push you away.” It was so ingrained in her. If she was going to lose Jane it would be on her terms, not anyone else’s. “So, I kicked you out. When you came back the next morning I thought you were breaking up with me. Instead, you…” Petra closes her eyes, still unable to grasp the enormity of JR giving up her career. It’s a thought that’s always followed by an acrid taste in her mouth. “I didn’t deserve that, and you didn’t deserve what happened to you either.”

“Yes, I did.” Jane disagrees. “It was time.”

Petra's eyes snap open. "Bullshit," she spits, not at JR but at the system, "So many other people go through their careers doing shitty things and nothing happens to them. You helped that girl and no matter what you say you wouldn’t have been caught if it wasn’t for me. That’s part of why I’m here,” at the very least she’s going to fix things, the things she can control.

“You lost your job and you were moving in with me for a reason, aside from…” Clearing her throat, Petra soldiers on through the uncomfortable reminder, “There’s a key down for you at the Marbella. It’s your own suite, rent free as long as you need it.” Petra would be paying for it herself, a fact she would withhold with no guilt. “I’m moving out, so you won’t see me around.”

"You don't have to do that," JR assures her.

“I want to take some of the pressure off you. Pressure that is mostly my fault. You can stay at the Marbella forever if you want, or the Fairwick, or some other place. I just need to know you’re okay.”

“How chivalrous,” JR deadpans, there’s no anger behind it but it’s enough to make her snap. She’s so done with this situation, this situation of her own making. She hates being back to this. The careful weighing of words, the pauses where JR tries to discern if she means anything other than what she’s saying.

“It’s not--I’m not. Fuck.” Short of tearing her hair out Petra doesn’t know how else to explain it. Fisting her hands under the table she struggles to reign in her desperation. She can't leave this café with JR thinking it was all a lie. Not when their relationship is the most honest she has ever been even while withholding the truth of Anezka's death. “I fucked up, and I’m sorry and trying to fix it as best as I can. I’m not doing this for any other reason other than I need to. I don’t expect anything from you. Not even forgiveness, I just want you to understand why I did it. That’s it. Maybe down the road, you'll forgive me, but I'm not expecting it now." Maybe ever. "Forget everything that happened between us. Think about it, logically, before you reject my offer."

“What if I can’t?” JR asks, turning to stare out of the window again.

“I don’t know.” Petra follows her line of sight because she’s not sure of what else to do. She hasn’t thought that far. If it were her, she wouldn’t want to move. Anyone with an idea of a home wouldn’t want to leave it for a hotel. Even if it is swanky. “I could pay the bills on your place.” The only reason she hadn’t initially offered that was because it would have been a flat-out no.

“No.” Jane corrects, tearing her eyes from whatever thing she was watching, facing Petra head on. “What if I can’t forget us?”

The mental mathematics come to a screeching halt. Petra blinks dumbly, grappling with the bomb JR dropped on her.  Jane’s eyes are piercing, the shadows within them are the same. The sense of helplessness that always overcomes Petra whenever she reminded herself JR was never coming back. If she were still the same person she was six years ago, she would capitalize on JR's vulnerability.

But she’s not. She’s trying not to be selfish. What she wants doesn’t matter. For once, she’s okay with it. For once, it’s her choice. It doesn’t make it any easier. Licking her lips, Petra looks away. “You probably should.”

“Really Petra?” Crossing her arms, JR sits back, glaring at her. “Don’t start telling me what I want to hear, or what you think I want to hear. Not when you haven’t lied to me once since you got here.”

“Jane…” She’s trying to do the right thing here.

“What do you want?” JR asks abruptly,

“What?” Petra asks weakly, unable to understand why JR won’t yield.

“What do you want?” JR repeats.

She promised herself she would be honest, and it’s what she’s going to do. Straightening up, she answers JR’s question. “I don’t want us to be over. I want to ask you if you’ll forgive me, or we can move past this.” Folding her hands in her lap, she bites back the alarming amount of hope she’s beginning to feel. “But that’s selfish and I don’t want to be selfish.”

"Ask me," Jane commands.

“What?” Petra blinks at her, not understanding what she means.

“Ask. Me.” When Jane leans forward, her breath ghosting Petra’s cheek, what she means becomes clear and it’s enough to make Petra stop breathing.

“I—I don’t know if I can.” She feels cornered now, pinned down by JR’s ardent gaze. The whole point of this was to explain, that was it. She was never really going to ask for a second chance. After everything that's happened, she forfeited that opportunity long ago. "Being with me has forced you to do things I never wanted you to do. You shot someone because of me, you almost _got_ shot because of me. Do you know what that feels like? To know it’s my fault.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” Jane says seriously, unwaveringly. Jane’s willingness to put herself at risk again does nothing to alleviate Petra’s guilt. Jane must sense it because with an exhale she slumps back in her seat. “Do you know what getting that call from Krishna was like? Barely making it in time. I’ve never been so scared in my life.” JR smiles crookedly, “Between you and JV I think I’ve developed a complex about elevators.” JR stirs her coffee, they both watch the amber liquid swirl. “I dream about your suite. Running to it, and every time I open the door, I’m too late. That’s what my nightmares have been about, not shooting your scummy ex.”

Petra absorbs her words, feeling foolish. She’s spent the past couple of weeks assuming JR was fine. In her mind, JR bounced back and simply moved on with her life. Nightmares that matched her hadn’t even occurred to her.

“I didn’t walk away because you killed Anezka. Or because of Milos. I walked away because I knew if I stayed I’d take you back,” A small crease forms between Jane’s brows before her fingers chase it away. “I wasn’t ready for that. I needed time to think. And I did think, a lot.” JR scrubs her hands against her face, “It wasn’t that you killed Anezka, I mean, it isn’t really surprising. I thought about it, objectively she was as much as an abuser as Magda if not more. I’m surprised you were able to hold out against them both, and me.” There’s respect in JR’s voice but Petra barely registers it. It’s unimportant when most of her life has been spent trying to hold her ground on constantly shifting terrain. “When you told me you killed her, I didn’t care or ask you why. I screwed up. I made the mistake of reverting to my previous assessment of you. All I could think of was the file sitting at home in my desk. A file finally proved right. It was wrong of me to say those things to you. I have some…" JR blows out a painful breath, "issues, with lying and manipulation. And I’m aware it’s of part of who you are, it’s a part of who I am. It’s why we worked. We understood that side of each other. I just never thought it was being used against me on some level. No matter how small.”

Petra swallows thickly, “I’m so, so, sorry about that.”

“Petra! Stop!” Jane says sharply but without any malice. “Stop apologizing. I get it. I’m okay with it. It’s why I returned the shoes.”

“What?” Petra sits back in disbelief, “That was you?”

“Yeah,” Jane traces the lines in the wooden table, “that was me. It was an apology, for jumping to conclusions. I don’t know what I was thinking when I took them. In the moment I felt so betrayed, so played. I felt like an idiot.” JR shrugs, “I guess I wanted revenge. Either way, it felt wrong to keep them, so I returned them because I realized I didn’t want them. I wanted you.”

“Jane,” Petra breathes somehow managing to get words past the lump forming in her throat, “I—”

“Wait,” Shaking her head Jane stops her, “I’m not done yet.” Heart thumping frantically in her chest, Petra listens. "I thought I understood what you've been through. But it turns out I didn't. It didn't really sink in until I saw you face to face with a gun. That fear." JR shudders, "I finally know what it's like. Having to make split-second decisions, the potential of them being wrong and possibly dying because of it.” JR expels a sharp breath, shaking her head. “It’s a lot, and to have to constantly make those decisions? I get it now Petra. I really, truly, get it.”

“Look,” Jane sighs heavily into the silence, “we’ve both made mistakes in this relationship. We’re both fucked up, that’s a fact. We have things to work through, both together and apart.” JR cards both hands through her hair, placing both elbows on the table, she smiles wryly at her. “But I’m willing to try this again if you are.”

In a profession that required a poker face every second of every of every day, Petra will never get tired of being one of the people JR trusts, the degree is uncertain, but there’s no denying it’s there. Jane is making the first move in a game that Petra had long forfeited.

“Clean slate,” JR states, reaching across the table, she twines their hands together, the touch is electrifying. An unneeded confirmation of their intense connection. “No more blackmailers, murders, no more lies.” JR is refusing to let Petra retreat and it’s enough for Petra to leap with her.

“I want to try again.” Petra isn’t sure she can promise the first two, but the last one, that’s something she has complete control over.

JR’s smile is so radiant, so wide and so bright, Petra grins right back, unable to believe the outcome. On the way here, she had envisioned a polite rebuff or an all-out fight. Acceptance? Forgiveness? Those weren’t even options, but JR is offering that and more and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t seize it.

“We’ll start slow.” Petra nods enthusiastically, they can go at whatever pace Jane wants. “How about lunch?”

“Lunch sounds great.”

“So,” Jane drags out the word, eyebrow arched high. “What have I missed?”

“Small talk JR? Really?”

JR nudges her foot playfully, “Just shut up and answer the question.”

Petra thinks for a moment, deciding to keep JR as a surprise for the girls, and pushing aside Jane V’s and Rafael’s best wishes, she purposely chooses the most shocking piece of information she has.

“Michael’s alive. Jane’s Michael.”

“What!” JR exclaims, almost yanking Petra across the table, she still hasn’t let go of her hand. Petra doesn’t want her to. With her free hand Jane motions for the waiter. “Sounds like you didn’t have enough time to miss me,” she teases.

Petra kisses JR’s slender hand tenderly, reveling at the shiver she elicits from her. “All I did was miss you.”

“I missed you too.” JR softens, a shy smile beginning to bloom, and Petra wants to kiss it bigger. JR leans back before she can close the gap and Petra knows she did it on purpose. Her wink confirms it. Scowling at the table between them, she mentally begins listing worthy alternatives to the café.

When JR nudges her foot, flashing her a sinful smirk over the top of the menu, and says, _“Patience, Pete.”_ She knows they’re going to be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> find me here on [tumblr](http://finehs.tumblr.com)


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